Image description: a picture of a bird perched on telephone lines, with a grey sky behind it.
By Molly Scales
The Humans have all gone quiet,
Sings the starling startled from its tree.
They’ve arranged a hibernation of their own,
Agree new-formed critters, barely beginning to be.
The roiling roads stop their churning.
The city sky ceases burning.
The Box People tuck themselves
Into Box Houses.
Some might even say
They wait in a hopeless hope
That the calm –
This intolerable calm-
Will not last.
I am so used to the world’s turning;
I find it an eerie apparition now
Without the lullaby of its howling.